


Arcann, meet the Alliance

by RelicIron



Series: Mercenary [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Anxious Arcann, Canon-Typical Medical Treatment, Injury, M/M, Pre-Relationship, caden's a walking disaster, everyone's uncomfortable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:09:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25816330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RelicIron/pseuds/RelicIron
Summary: Caden’s just finished being mauled, shot at, and attacked with lightsabers, but hey, he recruited himself an ex-emperor! Now he just needs to keep his people from shooting the man on sight.Stars, he’s tired.
Relationships: Arcann/Male Bounty Hunter (Star Wars)
Series: Mercenary [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833691
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Arcann, meet the Alliance

**Author's Note:**

> I’m still kind of figuring out Caden’s speech patterns, so sorry if it seems inconsistent.

It’s an uncomfortable shuttle ride back to base, but Caden’s not in the mood to even try resolving it.

He’s exhausted, he’s frustrated they didn’t stop Vaylin, and his nerves are shot to all hell from trying to protect those Zakuulan rebels from getting torn apart.

Beast pens.

What is it with him and beast pens.

He groans tiredly and tries to sink further into his seat, only to wince and shift away from the left side.

Thanks to Theron being an ass and wanting to wear a jacket with the protective quality of tissue paper, Caden had had to shove him out of the way of a fucking RANCOR and get grabbed in his place. His chest plate had kept him from being crushed to death and Theron had managed to make the beast drop him, but his undersuit wasn’t meant for rancor talons, and he’d had to spend the rest of the night running around bleeding down his hip from the twin gashes in his side.

Theron had needed to keep dosing him with stims to keep him from keeling over and now there’s an uncomfortable buzzing under his skin from taking too many.

It was gonna be absolute _hell_ when he came down off them, and he could only hope they get back to Odessen before the pain from his wounds and the withdrawl bowled him over.

Naturally, being stuck, injured and exhausted, in a tiny shuttle with stars damned ARCANN of all people was about as far from _fun_ as you could get.

The man in question at least seems to have the good sense to keep his mouth shut and be as inconspicuous as possible (which was difficult with Caden’s instincts still screaming ‘DANGER’ both from the stims and from Arcann’s proximety).

He’s currently being chatted at by T7, although from the blank look on his face, Caden’s fairly certain the man doesn’t understand binary. It doesn’t seem to stop T7 though, who had happily accepted Arcann into the ‘friend’ category the moment he and Theron had told him. Naturally everyone else in the shuttle were keeping their hands on their respective weapons.

Caden snorts. _Not that it would make any difference,_ he thought.

Arcann may have been a little banged up from his encounter with Vaylin on the roof, but he could still tear through Theron and Lana if he had a mind to and right now Caden’s too weak to put up much of a fight either. So the several hour ride back to Odessen is spent with both sides warily eyeing each other as T7 chirps and spins in place, having finally given up on talking to Arcann but not at all bothered by it.

“Theron, take the helm, if you would.”

Caden jumps at Lana’s arrival in the cabin and winces as it pulls on his wounds, prompting an immediate investigation from the sith.

“Oh for the love of- what did you do?” she asks in exasperation.

He’s not keen on having his injuries pointed out in front of Arcann, but there’s not much he can do about it now.

“Got dumped into a beast pen with a rancor ‘n a bunch of civies, I dunno what you expected,” he grumbles, already submitting to her examination.

She scoffs but her expression quickly turns hard when she sees the damage.

“Ugh, you’re impossible.” She gets up and retrieves a med pack from an overhead storage locker, before unpacking it and pulling out the disinfectant and a numbing injector.

She makes quick work of cutting his suit open further and he only flinches a little when she jabs him with the needle.

“Oh don’t be a baby.”

He has the distinct urge to stick his tongue out at her, but it would only prove her point, and when she starts irrigating the gashes with the disinfectant a _little_ too soon, he manages to muffle his shriek behind his lips. The fluid is cold where it runs down over his flank but the undersuit is pretty well ruined so there’s no point in worrying over spilled disinfectant.

Once she’s satisfied with their cleanliness, she settles in and brings the Force to bear on his wounds. Watching the flesh move and sluggishly knit itself back together always weirds him out, so he spends his time peering at Arcann from behind the veil of his hair.

He’s watching them, or more specifically, watching Caden’s side as Lana urges the edges of the gouges together. He hasn’t said anything since he’d climbed on board, but his gaze is contemplative as he watches Lana work. Much as Caden wants to stay on edge (especially with the stims still making his skin crawl) there’s no hostility in the man’s eyes or body language, and inch by unwilling inch, he feels himself start to succumb to the bone deep tiredness and relax into his seat as he tries to ignore the weird stinging that comes with sith healing. It’s almost a surprise when they finally come out of hyperspace and Theron brings them smoothly into the hanger.

“Alright, I’ve done what I can for now, but there’s still a ways to go. I want you to go to the med center and have them see to the rest, alright?” She stubbornly holds his gaze until he nods.

“Great, glad we got that settled, so who’s gonna tell the rest of the Alliance about our new friend here?” Theron asks as he slips out of the cockpit.

All four of them turn to look at Arcann, and despite the shuttered look on his face, he casts an apprehensive glance at the shuttle door.

Caden can only grumble under his breath.

“Just help me make sure nobody shoots him.”

He groans as he pushes himself up, giving his wounds a quick inspection.

 _She does good work._ They’re more than halfway healed but they’ll still probably need stitches or a long dunk in a kolto tank. _Stars, I hate those damn tanks._

He’s stiff and tired and the stim buzz is starting to fade out and be replaced by a marrow deep ache as the withdrawl sets in, so it’s a great time to have to plant himself between a possible angry mob and his ex-mortal enemy.

Right.

Better get it over with.

The door slides open and he gingerly sits down and slides out, in too much pain to try jumping, but it isn’t until Arcann leaps out behind him that people notice.

A group of soldiers loitering near some cargo, both Republic and Imperial, immediately drop everything to form up and raise their rifles. That they so unified, and willing to fight someone they probably know they can’t beat, sends a little thrill of pride through Caden, even if their aggression is not something he needs right now. Everyone else in the hanger immediately hide or pull blasters and he’s pretty sure is sees one or two faint.

Quite a reception.

For his part, Arcann has gone rigid behind him, his hand hovering near his lightsaber, but not yet drawing it.

A stand off.

He’s way to tired for this shit.

“Weapons down,” he barks, voice echoing through the space as he carefully situates himself between Arcann and everyone else. Stars there are going to be some major defections after this.

The soldiers look at each other in confusion before peering back at him, but thankfully lower their rifles. They don’t stow them, but it’s probably the most he can expect.

“Alright, I know this is going be hard to accept, but Arcann here is going help us bring down Vaylin.” The silence in the hanger is _deafening_ , and he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“He helped save my skin today in Zakuul, but having him here is a lot to ask, I get it, so if anyone wants to leave I won’t blame you,” the first bit’s a slight exaggeration, injured or not he and Theron could have probably taken those Horizon guard, but they don’t need to know that. There’s a lot of nervous looks thrown around, but nobody starts heading towards the shuttles so he’s call it a win. It won’t surprise him if they DO get people bailing in the next few days, but its a good sign that they don’t all walk out immediately, and it sends a thrill of pride and anxiety through him that they all have such faith in him that they’re willing to let Arcann even stand here at all.

Not for the first time, he hopes he can live up to that faith.

It’s still tense in the hanger, but the hostility thankfully seems to drain out and a few people warily start working again.

“Alright,” he says, going back to his normal voice and turning back to the royal bastard in question, “Hopefully we’re past them shooting ya on sight, but you should still try t’ be careful.”

He nods quietly and Caden turns to Lana and Theron.

“I need you two t’ figure out where we’re gonna put him. Don’t think the general barracks are gonna work.”

Oh. Wait…

He turns back to Arcann, “All ya got is the clothes on your back, right?”

He blinks before replying, “At the moment, yes. I have a few things hidden on Nar Shaddaa.”

Caden can’t help the shiver that passes down his spine at the sound of his voice, and hopes Arcann didn’t notice. It’s going to take a while to get used to him, once bitten twice shy and all.

He’s too tired to question the Nar Shaddaa part of that sentence.

“We can see about gettin’ ‘em tomorrow,” he says, before turning back to Theron and Lana, “’til then maybe grab him a set of spare clothes from somewhere.”

“Please,” he tacks on. He figures he can be forgiven for his manners slipping tight now, “Until then, I’m taking him to the med bay, you can come get ‘im there. Alright?”

“Very well,” Lana says with a chilly look thrown Arcann’s way.

“You do know we’re not quartermasters, right?” Theron grumps. It’s good natured but he’s watching Arcann with laser focus.

Caden snorts, “Yer own fault. _Some_ body got me so hopped up on stims I can’t see straight, otherwise I might’a been able to help.”

“Alright, alright,” he finally laughs, before following Lana. “Just be careful,” he says in a low voice, right as he passes Caden before calling a louder ‘See you later’ over his shoulder.

 _A_ _nd then there was one_ , he thinks as he turns his gaze back on Arcann.

The lines of his shoulders are tense as a bowstring, and he looks incredibly uncomfortable.

Deep down there’s a mean part of Caden that’s happy about that, but he knows that’s not useful right now. Giving Arcann the cold shoulder _really_ didn’t work out well for Valkorian.

“Ok, come on.”

They make their way out of the hanger bay and down into the hallway. As they pass the various rooms, Caden can see whole groups of nervous faces watching them as they walk by. Thankfully, word of their new ally seems to have gotten around the base, because they don’t have anyone else drawing weapons on them. It _does_ make Caden’s spine itch to have Arcann trailing behind him, so after a while he pauses long enough for the man to draw level with him so they can walk side by side.

They’re nearly to the med bay when Arcann slows to a stop.

“Commander- I… need to say something.”

He’s exhausted and the finish line of the infirmary is in sight, but the look on Arcann’s face is serious (of course, when isn’t it) so he stops too and makes an ‘I’m listening’ noise.

“I wanted to thank you for letting me join your Alliance. To be honest, I wasn’t certain you would, after everything I put you through,” he says quietly and the hesitation in his voice is a little jarring compared to the angry snarling he used to spout. It really does help nail home how different he is now. It _could_ be an act, but something tells Caden that subterfuge isn’t one of Arcann’s strong suits.

Something they have in common.

“Won’t lie, you’ve got a hard road ahead of ya. I let ya in, but you’re gonna need t’ earn our trust.”

At his words, Arcann looks up to listen carefully before nodding.

“I intend to prove my loyalty many times over. I’ll make sure you won’t regret giving me this chance,” the conviction in his eyes is almost hard to look at.

“Good,” he says instead, “You keep to that n’ you’ll do fine here.”

Once they’re inside the med bay, it’s Caden’s turn to stop Arcann.

“Alright, your mom’s in th’ bed on the far side. Lana or Theron should come getcha when they figure out where you’re sleepin’.”

At the mention of his mother his face lights up a bit, “Thank you, Commander, I’m- in your debt for caring for her.”

He waves him away, “She’s a friend, would’a done it anyways, but your welcome.”

Caden’s halfway to the nearest med droid and before he remembers.

“Oh, Arcann?”

He turns back questioningly, hand on the curtain around Senya’s bed.

“I saw your sister bounce a speeder off your face, so I want you to get checked out before you leave here, ok?” he asks, trying to channel Lana’s ‘I dare you to disagree with me’ look.

Arcann’s lips thin like he wants to object, but he nods all the same, and disappears behind the curtain.

_Stars, what a day._

The droid takes one look at Caden and just turns around and gets one of the doctors on duty. He’s pretty sure that says something about his appearance or maybe the frequency with which he gets hurt, but he’s too tired to grumble.

Once they lay him down on a bed and peak beneath his ruined undersuit, they mutter to themselves as they pull the curtain and retrieve some supplies. Ah, looks like he called it, gonna need stitches.

Great.

So they help him strip off the armor, roll him on his side, numb him up, and he’s out before they even start.


End file.
